


Eight-Thousand Miles

by 88problems



Series: If You Need Me, I'll Be There [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Divorce, Guilt, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve's Letter to Tony Post-Civil War (Movie), Superhusbands (Marvel), lots of guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:09:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8278883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/88problems/pseuds/88problems
Summary: "Steve stared down at his husband, face warped in fury, with cold blue eyes.  The Captain’s rapid breaths came in harsh gasps, peppered with barks of exertion, as he continued to pummel the quickly buckling metal protecting the engineers bruised and bloodied face." Tony Stark is not the only one haunted by the events of Civil War. The Third Installment of the "If You Need Me, I'll Be There" Series.





	

  
  


The weight astride his chest pinned Tony to the cold stone floor. 

 

Steve stared down at his husband, face warped in fury, with cold blue eyes.  The Captain’s rapid breaths came in harsh gasps, peppered with barks of exertion, as he continued to pummel the quickly buckling metal protecting the engineers bruised and bloodied face. 

 

Tony’s vision became fuzzy as his eyes attempted to adjust to the fury of motion before him. Frozen sunlight captured the glittering roiling breaths above.

 

_ What are you doing no no no what are you doing why why why why…  _

 

“Because Stark,” the captain barked with a laugh, the furious blue eyes widening in a manic stare. 

 

“You pushed me too far, you just push and push and _ push _ until something snaps and I guess it was me this time  _ darlin _ ’”.

 

Tony flinched at the endearment, unable to speak as Steve continued to press himself into Tony’s chestplate. The metal groaned in protest; it began to buckle and crumple like cheap tin.

 

Both men gasped at the pop of armor as it bit into flesh--

 

Steve awoke with a hoarse shout, blond hair plastered to his forehead, his chilled and damp skin caught in a tangle of sodden sheets and bedclothes. The erratic thrum of  his heartbeat, far away and yet it reverberated through him all at once, pulsed in his ears. 

 

He ran a shaking hand up over his face and blinked against the gathering moisture behind his eyes. Steve shifted from the bed, his churning stomach and sudden dry mouth the only warning before-

 

Steve raced to the en suite washroom as bile burned and coursed up his throat and into his mouth.

 

T’Challa had been kind enough to provide Steve, and the rest of those that had fled to Wakanda, furnished rooms for as long as they cared to call the compound their home. At first they had burst with praise for the display of generosity and sanctuary, alternating between humble smiles and insipid gratitude towards their host.

 

Now though, the weight of those they had left behind -left to wonder- settled heavy on their shoulders. 

 

Their home was almost eight-thousand miles away.

 

Steve’s home was almost eight-thousand miles away and, most assuredly, would never speak to him again.

 

He flicked on the light with a quiet snick and twisted the taps before splashing cool water onto his face. The small room was brought into stark relief; strange exotic plants and domestic accouterments sneered at him, dared him to protest their presence. He rinsed the bile from his mouth. 

 

It’s not  _ your _ Home, Steve thought morosely; he caught the eye of his own reflection in the cramped mirror. 

 

_ ‘But neither is he. Not anymore,’ _ a smaller snide voice dripped in his ear, all honey and poison.

 

The super soldier drew a rattling breath; he forced his enhanced lungs to accept the oxygen and steady the rapid heart rate as it continued to burn through his rib cage. 

 

“Sonofabitch,” Steve hissed, one large hand clutched at the sink while the other palmed at the chain around his neck; there was no relief from the squeezing and twisting sensation that curled around his sternum. 

 

A simple white gold band hung from the chain; it glinted in the soft light.

 

_ I know I hurt you, Tony...I'm sorry...hopefully one day you can understand… _

 

“Sonofabitch”.

 

* * *

 

  
Across the Atlantic, Tony set an empty tumbler back on the desk in Steve’s office next to the plain black burner phone; a finger of amber liquid still remained in his glass.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I managed to pop this out in between essays for university. And yes, the end with Tony takes place at the beginning of 'Seven Words'.
> 
> I am still working on my chapter four of Unexpected Revelations and Chapter 12 of Kismet so please don't worry!! Otherwise, thanks for reading and please leave a comment or kudos for me!


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